


Dear John

by amirmitchell



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, this fic is really painful ok im sorry im so sorry, yikes yikes yikes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-13 07:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5699755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amirmitchell/pseuds/amirmitchell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maya's life in a series of letters to her abusive ex boyfriend</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. July

** _July 11, 6:57 pm_ **

I saw a counselor today. 

Riley forced me, but he was nice and his smile seemed genuine. He's requesting that I write to you. I'm to write whatever I want to say to you with the date and time plastered at the beginning each entry. I'm limited to one entry per day, but, other than that, the possibilities are endless. 

It’s a diary, of sorts-just for you. 

You hated diaries. You called them childish scrawls. You wrote masterpieces about the lives of your imaginary friends, but a novel about oneself was ridiculous. But y ou won't see it, so it’s not like it matters.

Besides, you never cared much for anything I made for you anyway. 

 

** _July 12, 4:12 am_ **

I was nineteen when we met. 

I forget that sometimes, as strange as it sounds. 

I was nineteen when we met and it took less than two weeks of us dating for you to corrupt me into the mindset of an oblivious child. 

I can still remember the first time I ever feared you; It was the night that you told me I was too close with Riley. We'd been together for exactly ten days, and you demanded for me to stop spending so much time with her. You didn't see me enough, you claimed. 

I laughed at you like I usually did- you were so funny back then- and you grabbed my wrist with a darkness in your eyes that I didn't believe could exist in such a gorgeous sea of green.   
It was the first time I ever feared you, but it wasn't the last.

When I told Riley about it, she said for me to get away from you. She said that you would hurt me. 

I stared at the bruise forming below my palm, wondering which bracelets I owned could cover it as I gave my best friend excuses as to why it was okay. I gave her excuses as to why I was okay. 

It was because you told me that I should be spending my time with the boy that would love me, and I had hope for that, John. I had hope for you. I had hope for us. 

And with that hope, I stared into the vexation clouding your gaze and I agreed. 

At just nineteen, I hadn’t known what hope truly was until I met you. 

At just nineteen, you should have known better than to take advantage of my freshly blind optimism. 

 

** _July 13, 4:39 am_ **

Are you awake right now?

You used to have trouble sleeping sometimes, so I would stay awake to make sure you were sound. I used to trace the pad of my finger up and down your nose until you softly snored, then I'd wait another twenty minutes to be sure. 

I'm not sure if I liked you sleeping because of the innocence that shone on your face or the fact that you couldn't tear me down while unconscious. 

 

** _July 14, 8:57 pm_ **

I had an event tonight. 

My art hung in a gallery with established artists. 

My soul hung in a gallery with established artists.

I painted a piece of hope and love. I used soft strokes to showcase a scene of a young girl with bright eyes and a racing heart; a scene of a young girl in love.

I titled it after you. 

 

** _July 15, 5:28 am_ **

I cried to you about the late nights in high school after Shawn left; how my mother would drink so much she couldn't recognize me. 

She would lock me out of the apartment and I would sit in the grimy halls of my building until morning rolled around. She would shatter glass at my feet so I couldn't go near her. She would scream at me how worthless I was, how little I was making of myself. 

I told you that it was because she thought she was talking to herself. She would tell me about her terrible nightmares of shouting at the mirror. 

I believed you when you persuaded me that she knew she was talking to me. 

I worshipped you for being selfless enough to put up with me through my disappointments.

I thanked you for loving me while you cooed how cruel some people could be. 

 

** _July 17, 2:33 pm_ **

Lucas took me out today. We went to the mall, and we shared a milkshake. He gave me his jacket when I shivered, and I didn’t have to pay for a thing. 

It was the first time I’d been alone with a boy other than you since… well, since you’d threatened to leave because you thought I was cheating on you our second month in. You used to hate when I spoke to Lucas. 

But I enjoyed my time with him. I’m allowed to have enjoyed it.

** _July 18, 3:37 am_ **

I miss you. 

Well, I miss who you were to me when we met. 

I miss who you were to me until I found out the truth. 

We were so happy, even if it was only for that first week. That was all it took for us. 

We danced in the streets like we were a part of a movie. 

We kissed like we had never felt the rush of infatuation before. 

We laughed so loud the entire city could hear us. 

We were so happy, and I did nothing but fall for you more and more. 

Why didn't you catch me? 

 

** _July 19, 4:12 am_ **

I tried not to drown. 

Your veins were rivers, flowing deep within you to my lips on your wrist when we fell asleep together. 

Your birth marks were lakes that I marked with my teeth across your neck as if I were a cartographer. 

Your freckles cascaded as a waterfall from the tops of your cheeks to the edges of your shoulders, spread sporadically in a beautiful oasis. 

I tried and I tried and I tried not to drown.

** _July 20, 10:49 pm_ **

You used to hold me as I shared stories of my childhood, of Alaskan adventures in the Aurora Borealis during storms and Peruvian escapades through deep caves after earthquakes.

You promised that we would share moments like that. 

You promised that we would explore our own world whenever I felt the need to hide away. 

You promised to protect me. 

 

** _July 22, 2:43 am_ **

I confided in you that my father had abandoned me about a month into our relationship. 

You promised me that you would never leave me like he did. You said that you loved me too much to ever want to be without me. That you needed me as I needed you. 

A week later, I went shopping with Farkle and Riley, and you screamed that my father was lucky to get out when he did. He should be grateful that he didn't have to put up with me like you did, you said. 

It's taken me three years to realize that I shouldn't have believed you. 

 

** _July 23, 7:46 pm_ **

Your favorite dessert was apple pie-- more specifically my Gammy’s. 

You loved Gammy the most of anyone I introduced you to. We used to spend every Tuesday night with her for dinner, and she made that damn pie every time, don't you remember? 

You should, considering you had a four slice minimum. 

We would all laugh and you would read her passages of your latest work. 

She defended you, y’know. The first time I wanted to break up. It was about five months into our relationship, and I wanted to end it. 

At first, at least. She tried defending you and then she saw hues of purple and red staining my skin before she told me to run from you as fast as I could. 

 

** _July 24, 10:47 pm_ **

Lucas and I have known each other since we were children.  We liked each other once, but I never told you that. 

There wasn't much to it; an unresolved middle school romance that lead to sexual tension throughout high school. Our friend group was small, and it was pretty much unavoidable. 

You told me that I should be scared of him. 

You were always shitty about my friends. Riley was too sweet, Zay was too funny, Farkle was too smart-- always one thing after another. I was just waiting for them to realize that they didn't want me in their lives. 

But it was always different with Lucas. You didn’t want me to fear losing him, to prepare to leave him before he left me. 

You wanted me to **fear** him.

It all clicked in your mind the night that I told you that he has anger problems. 

It was a few days after our honeymoon week, the one where nothing went wrong. He had said something to you about the way that you were grabbing me or talking to me, I forget which, and you asked me what his problem was after he had left. 

“He’s just a bit overprotective,” I said. “He doesn’t mean any harm. He struggled really badly with anger back in Texas, so he has this issue with getting worked up too quickly. Don’t mind him.”

I wish I had noticed the smirk that crept onto your face when I revealed that to you. 

I didn't, though, and you dropped the topic of Lucas for the night. 

It made you uneasy, you claimed.  I tried to brush it off, but when I went out for lunch with the gang a few days later, you made it a point to ask if Lucas would be there. 

Now, you always asked who I would be with when I went out. You made sure to approve of each person I would spend my time with- so to the normal point of view, you asking if Lucas was accompanying Riley, Farkle, and I to the local Olive Garden was normal. 

I knew different. 

When you typically asked who I would be going out with, you’d want a list. You’d check the ratios of girls to guys, you’d check to make sure it was no one that would try to steer me from you, you’d check to make sure it was no one that would look close enough to notice the fading patches of purple scattered on my limbs.  But on that day, you didn’t ask who I was eating with or tell me what you’d want brought back. You stared at me with a dark look and demanded to know if Lucas would be there.

“Of course, he will,” I answered honestly. I tried to be as honest as possible with you. 

“Then, you’re not going.” 

I was raised better than to be held against my will, so when I said, “Yes, I am!” with a stubborn look, it wasn’t a shock to you that I rushed towards the door. 

You weren’t raised better than putting your hands on your loved ones, though, so when I said, “Yes, I am!” with a stubborn look, it wasn’t a shock to me that you slammed me back against the wall and told me that I wasn’t going anywhere.     
** _  
_ _July 25, 5:45am_ **

Do you know what I think bothers me the most when I think about you trying to corrupt Lucas to me? You trying to corrode the what I had with him? 

You tried to tell me over and over about how he would snap, how he would hurt me. You told me that that you didn't feel safe sending me to spend time with him, so I wasn't  allowed to. 

It was for my own good. 

Not once in almost ten years of knowing Lucas Friar have I ever been afraid of him. He would get angry, angrier than he should've, and I would slip between him and whatever he wanted to destroy with ease because I knew that he would never lay a hand on me. 

Yet, with your knuckles turned white from your hold on my bicep, you tried to tell me that he would.    
  


** _July 26, 10:39 am_ **

I wanted to marry you. 

I wanted to follow you through every adventure, every wrong turn. I didn't care who didn't love you because I did. 

I wanted to promise my life to you with a ring I couldn't afford and a ceremony without the people that I’d lived my entire life with because you didn't like them. 

For a short three years of my life, I believed in princes, princesses, and happily ever afters. All because of you. 

Even if it wasn't truly the ideal picture I painted blindly, I still had a time of pure unadulterated faith in true love. Thank you for that. 

** _July 27, 7:37 pm_ **

My family never liked you. 

My friends, my mother, the Matthews, or anyone else I introduced you to cared little for you, but I loved you so much that it didn't matter.

I thought we could be the trope as old as time; a rough around the edges fixer upper and a stubborn girl who was naive enough to actually believe she could change him. 

It was just that you were far worse than just rugged and short fused. 

No, you were types of dangerous I didn't even know existed. 

Your edges were made of shattered shards of radiant girls with beaming hearts. I tried to shape you into something better, but you had jagged edges that sliced through me like paper so often that, soon enough, I became a broken point to you just as every girl before me. 

Late at night, I still lay awake wondering who I've cut. 

 

** _July 28, 1:34 am_ **

When I was a little girl, I wanted to move mountains. 

How silly, right? A bleach blonde second grader standing at the height of a preschooler babbling on and on about the mountains she would one day shift. 

Josh still listened. 

It was between the periods of cooties and age gaps, and when I skipped towards Joshua Matthews during a family game night, boasting about the changes I would one day make in this world, he listened to me and I adored it. 

He called me tonight, and he asked about you. I could hear the grateful smile on his lips when I told him that we had broken up. 

“You deserve so much more than that, Maya,” he spoke to me with a heavy heart. “You deserve so much more than how he treated you. You deserve a man who wants to watch you move mountains as badly as you strive to do so.” 

It is between the periods of pain and recovery, and when he reminded me of the little girl I had lost long ago, I cried to him as he continued to mend my swelling heart. 

It was my turn to listen. 

 

** _July 29, 1:39 pm_ **

Do you still think of me as a traitor? 

You thought I could be different. You thought I could see past your temper and your rough touch. You thought I could be the one to finally help you, but in the end, you spit at me while you growled that I was just one of them.

My poor, misunderstood love, I'm sorry I couldn't save you. 

 

** _July 30, 6:43 am_ **

I stopped talking to my friends for you. 

Riley would call and call and I’d stare at the photo of me kissing her cheek that illuminated my screen before tossing my phone to the end of your bed and kissing your lips. 

You tasted of whisky you shouldn't have had and adventure, a large contrast to the security I found in Riley’s blushing cheek.

Lucas and Farkle tried to text, but after seeing so many read messages with no replies they just stopped sending them. You convinced me that their silence meant that they didn't care for me anymore, yet when you ignored me, it was for good reason. 

You were the boy who would love me, after all. 

 

** _July 31, 11:27 pm_ **

Beside me right now, a beautiful girl sleeps with long, fluttering lashes and a grip on my waist like she's afraid I’ll slip away if she doesn't hold me back. 

I hate you for manipulating me to hurt her the way that I did. 

Riley Matthews deserved more than to even have to be in a room with scum like you, let alone watch you shatter the soul of someone she loves. 


	2. August

**_August 1, 10:37 pm_ **

I spent my night with a bottle of wine in the living room of my best friend’s apartment in place of my phone to avoid calling you. 

It was a moscato that tasted like sunshine and healing, and I had almost half of an entire bottle to myself because I am an adult and I am allowed to drink and sing and laugh and dance and love. 

It was delicious, but no wine so sweet will ever leave a better taste on my lips than the indent of Riley’s left dimple when she laughs so hard that her face burns crimson. 

(She was laughing at your favorite joke, and it only made me miss you more.)

I could not tell you through voice nor text nor anything between, so I write to you now: Happy birthday to you and to all that share this day. I hope that whoever you were with took you to that little bakery a few blocks from the library. I know how much you love it there. 

 

**_August 2, 1:16 pm_ **

Your father showed his affection to your mother by grasping her neck with his trembling hands and shouting at her until his voice was hoarse. You learned from him to express your love through vulgarity and aggression. 

Farkle finds it tragic that I still can't find it in myself to blame you for the damage done. 

 

**_August 3, 11:44 pm_ **

A dinner isn't a date as much as a meal between two people with an interest in spending time with each other, platonic or not- so don't ask me if my night with Josh was a date because I’m not exactly sure. 

I do know that he looked at me like the blue in my eyes had filled the planet’s oceans, and it was almost whimsical. 

Tonight, with a boyish grin and a genuine laugh, Josh made me feel loved. (Whether platonically or not, I’m not exactly sure.)

 

**_August 4, 8:56 pm_ **

Everyone tells me that none of this was my fault.

They say that I need to stop making excuses for you. 

Why did you do the things that you did? I don't want you to be misunderstood anymore, so help me understand you, John. 

I know that you can't. I know that it's ridiculous to ask you now what I should've when we were together, but here I am. 

Hopeful for this. 

Hopeful for us.

Hopeful for you. 

Hopeful, hopeful, hopeful. 

 

**_August 5, 2:26 pm_ **

I just got back from lunch with my mother. She tells me that I have color in my eyes again, but I don't believe it. You drained me of a bit too much for my recovery to have made such progress in the month we've been separated.    
In the period between our first date and our first anniversary, I visited her a total of three times. The first two were alone. You had excuses not to go, using your friends as scapegoats, but you were really at concerts. Not just any concerts, either. The concerts of a girl I'm quite close with now, but we can talk about her later.    
The only time you went home with me was our first Christmas. You spit out my mother's food, you ignored her questions, and you wrapped your fingers too tightly around my arm when I asked you why you were being so rude.    
You said you never wanted to go home with me again. You called my childhood apartment a filthy box. You told me that you didn't understand how I grew up in that disgusting neighborhood without a disease. You exclaimed that the homeless man down my street explained why I was so greedy when asking you for attention. You laughed at the park that I went to for thinking. You refused to take the subway because you found it cramped and grimy, though you saw why I would be comfortable. You tore down every memory I smiled on.    
I stopped going back after that. 

 

**_August 6, 11:38 pm_ **

I was asked to define true love in my therapy session this afternoon. 

I was asked to label the signs according to my own mind. 

I told him of the nights I would lay in bed and long for you. 

Your voice whispering sweet nothings against my ear. 

Your laugh lifting my soul to the ceiling and back with pure adoration. 

The pads of your thumbs swiping away my falling tears as I wept. 

It wasn't until he asked who had caused me to cry in the first place that I’d ever questioned my interpretation. 

 

**_August 7, 11:34 pm_ **

When I was in the fifth grade, I read this book about a little boy that dies in a bike accident. He forgets his helmet and he flies into a truck, and the entire book is told from the perspective of his older sister as she struggles through the experience. 

I always thought the book was a bit heavy for a group of elementary schoolers- in fact, I think that it was banned in a few states- but that's all besides the point. 

When I was in the fifth grade, I read a book about a boy that dies from not wearing a helmet, and I found it absolutely absurd because there was no way that two inches of foam could've saved his life like the pages claimed. It was a tall tale used to scare us into always riding safely, the haunting words of Mick Harte Was Here in the back of our minds while we zipped through city parks. We spent an entire month on a unit telling us that if we didn't fasten a hunk of plastic around our skulls, we would die. 

It was absolutely morbid, and I still didn't wear mine.

Auggie never forgets his helmet while riding his bike, though. Who could blame him? He is related to Riley, after all. Plus, he read that book, too! More recently than us, considering he only turned thirteen a few months ago, so it was still pretty much fresh in his mind when he left for some little suburb with some of his friends yesterday to check out a new skate park. 

He had on all of his gear: knee pads, elbow pads, a mouth guard, and, goddamn it, the hunk of fucking plastic that would save his life when he soars off of his skidding bike and into the side of a cement building head first. 

After I write to you, Riley is forcing me to send letters to my fifth grade teacher and Barbara Parks herself apologizing for calling _“a heartbreaking story of tragedy and acceptance”_ a _“heaping pile of crap that's got a more pathetic plot line than the boogeyman eating us if we don't follow our bedtimes.”_

Mind you that she yelled this at me while we were at the bedside of her little brother in the emergency room, but the kid is alright, and I suppose that's all that really matters. 

 

**_August 8, 4:43 pm_ **

As I write this, Lucas sits beside me softly humming as he reads that fucking book- you know, the one that I told you about last night? (It wasn't a requirement in Texas, go figure.) Riley forced it on him as soon as she found out he hadn't been assigned it in grade school, and I volunteered to be the one to share a table with him at the library as he indulged himself with the narrating thoughts of a thirteen year old girl. 

Auggie comes home from the hospital tomorrow, and I'm really excited about it. We're going to throw him a small party. 

I'm starting to feel less guilty. 

Lucas had to remind me that I'm almost as much of a sister to him as Riley is and hold my hand when we picked out the streamers at the store, but I'm starting to feel less guilty about dedicating my time to people other than you. 

I held Lucas’s hand and I planned a party that I will be at for far longer than the hour limit you had typically set for me when I was allowed out, and all I want to do is scream those facts from the top of the Empire State Building. 

It feels good to be on my own. 

 

**_August 9, 10:56 pm_ **

Auggie is home, Riley is asleep, and Lucas is grinning as wide as can be after spending half an hour dancing with me in a room of worn decorations and soft dated music after everyone had left. 

Many have told me that you and I are better apart, and I think that I'm starting to see what they mean. 

 

**_August 10, 6:47 pm_ **

My favorite thing about you was your laugh. Not the belittling one that you used against me or the ghosted one our friends would hear, but your purest, most genuine mixture of amusement and happiness. 

You didn't laugh much, but, on these rare nights when things weren't too quiet and I wasn't shattering our peace, we would sit and we would just talk. As my hope slowly built from its crumbled form, you would grin your sweetest grin before breaking out into an adorable fit of chuckles. 

It was magical. 

 

**_August 11, 5:11 am_ **

The first serious fight that we ever had was over Farkle. 

How silly, right? 

Farkle! Of all the people! That little nerdy guy! 

Well, you found it silly. 

I didn't. 

When I told you about him, you chuckled mercilessly at his name, asking if his mother’s name was Smackle as some type of cruel humor. 

I looked you dead in the eyes and told you that Smackle was his girlfriend’s name. It wasn't a joke to me. It was the life of one of my best friends and you were making it out to be comedic relief for your oh so tragic life.

You laughed so hard that you had tears in your eyes and I walked away from you for the first of the only two times I would our entire relationship. 

I wish I'd realized then that your laugh wasn't anything special. 

 

**_August 20, 7:34 pm_ **

Hey, stranger. 

...Get it? Because I haven't really written you in a few days. (Nine, to be exact, but who's counting?) I know that you didn't really think I was funny, but I chuckled a little and I feel like that's what matters. 

I saw you last week. 

It was the first time since the break up.

I was going to that little bakery (our little bakery) because I was putting away my winter coat for the next few weeks and I found my punch card for a free muffin. I figured- why not? I could always go for a cup of tea and a baked good. So, I got up and I walked a few blocks and I went right in those doors thinking that I could do it! I was a single woman getting over a traumatic breakup, and this was a process that was appropriate for it being a few weeks out. 

It was a genius plan right up until I saw you and it felt like a metal claw had slithered into my skin to shatter my beating heart inside of my ribcage so that I could feel shards of my love slicing the seams of my aching soul to shreds. 

You were with a girl, a new one, and the fact that your eyes still found me while she was

sitting ahead of you made me feel nineteen and naive again. I felt triumphant as you excused yourself to walk over and greet me, hugging me close as if we were old friends eager to catch up. 

You told me that you miss me, and your touch that lingered around me was soft enough that I believed you. I was shaking and I was so happy because, god damn it, I miss you, too, and your eyes held warmth and care and longing and so many things that I craved for the years that we were together and they were all so close and-

This is why I had to run. I'm not writing to you now to tell you about our altercation in that little bakery (our little bakery), I am writing to you to tell you why when you stared into my eyes and told me that you miss me, I turned around with tears slipping down my cheeks and I ran to the nearest place I could that I knew would be safe for me because I wasn't safe there. 

I wasn't safe with you. 

 

**_August 21, 2:56 am_ **

I was with Lucas. 

I don't know why I was so afraid to tell you that earlier, but I was with Lucas, and I stayed with Lucas for the nine days I avoided writing you. His apartment is only a block from that bakery (our bakery) so fleeing to it after seeing you again was the plan that seemed logical to me.

It was a great stay. He made me breakfast every morning and I got to choose the movies we watched in bed before he was sure he could turn it off because I had fallen asleep. When I woke up from nightmares of you, his fingertips brushed the tears from my face and he pulled me close enough to him that the feathering traces of hearts that he left on the small of my back were enough to overcome my fear that you would find me again. 

I told him everything. He knew of the other girls, the stains of black and blue against my bones, the empty promises and pointless lies, nights I cried for you to stop. I even told him what you thought of him, what you told me he would do.

In response, he asked my permission before he kissed every inch of my skin while muttering against it reason after reason that I deserve much more than the scars you embedded into me. 

We didn't fuck. I know that's the only thing on your mind right now considering how vulgar you tend to get, but we really didn't. While not innocent, short, or even fully clothed, we only kissed. 

Lucas and I kissed and smiled and laughed and shared stories of our childhoods with our limbs intertwined. 

I told him of the northern lights, and he promised he would take me on adventures like that and to protect me until his last day.

He promised me everything that you did, but the difference is that I believe him. 

 

**_August 22, 10:00 pm_ **

I still set the table for two out of impulse sometimes. 

Then I sit and I stare at your empty seat. 

Well, the empty seat. 

I still claim everything as yours out of impulse sometimes, too. 

 

**_August 23, 5:34 am_ **

I asked to be alone today, and I know that you know why. (Everyone else does, too, and I think that's why they actually listened.) 

I watched something of us. It was from the first time I spent my birthday with you. You whisked me away from my traditional party and insisted we spend the day road tripping to little touristy diners we saw, critiquing their birthday desserts and dancing in front of worn out jukeboxes that I was in love with. 

In the video, you're telling me how we’re taking a picture to capture our obnoxious presence and I'm giggling at the awkward angle you landed on because you whipped out your damn cell phone in the middle of our impromptu waltz. 

“Miss Hart,” you whispered, almost so quiet I couldn't make it out over the chatter of strangers at their respective tables, “tell me your biggest fear.” 

You always asked random little questions like that, or demanded to know things in that way, I guess. I watched my own eyes fall to the ground. The blush in my cheeks drained, waiting to expose the truth as I always did with you. 

“I'm scared that you're going to hurt me.” 

I’d already had injuries from you by then. I was already battered and damaged, the only difference being that you were still apologizing for it when we first started out. By the month after we recorded this, you showed no remorse and I just took it. 

“Oh, Maya,” you cooed, your free hand slithering down my cheek. “I love you. Why would I do such a thing?” 

So, tell me, please, why would you? Consider your explanation a gift to me on this special, special day. 

Except, you didn't give gifts because you didn't believe in today. 

“Our relationship should be celebrated every day, Maya, not just one. We are far too monumental to just recognize on a single date.”, right? 

The thing was that you never wanted to celebrate us. 

Happy anniversary, John. 

I wish I had answers to the questions lingering between us. 

 

**_August 24, 11:47 pm_ **

The nights are the hardest for me. Are they hard for you? 

I know that you must have some other girl singing to you softly while tracing patterns on your chest by now, but do you miss my voice? My touch? 

Do you miss me still? 

 

**_August 25, 10:21 pm_ **

Sometimes, if I hold my breath long enough, it's almost like you're still here. 

I have an ache in my head making my ears ring, wincing at every ounce of light spilling towards me because I'm terrified that you'll be in one of the rooms waiting. 

My vision needs to settle before I can even properly make out anything on my phone, but I don't try to even check it because you hated that, so I do with it what I did every day that we were together; I place it on the counter, charging with the screen up so that you can see any notifications that appear. I've always conveniently struggled with my sight just long enough for you to hide what you didn't want me to see. 

My heart drums, my head pounds, and I'm so close to passing out that my eyes see nothing but flashing grids fading to black. I can't help but wonder if I'd be lucky enough to drop dead so that I can finally get some fucking rest. 

I'm doing this just to feel close to you. I'm doing this so that I don't forget your voice and the freckles on your nose and so that my body aches where you used to grab me because that's the only way I feel alive anymore. 

I'm tired, John. 

I’m so fucking tired. 

 

**_August 26, 9:37 pm_ **

I still can't find it in myself to blame you. It's been weeks and I have more excuses

for you than I can count. 

You had trouble controlling your temper. You only wanted to spend time with me. You had a bad day after getting rejected by a publisher. You got an average grade in your writing. Dinner wasn't hot enough. I forgot to call. You had scars from exes that drove insecurity to your core that I would leave you.    
And I did. 

I still can't find it in myself to be sorry    
for proving that to be true, either.

 

**_August 27, 8:12 pm_ **

I have a secret for you that I haven't told anyone yet, not even Riley. 

I kissed Joshua Gabriel Matthews today, and it was everything that my adolescent crush had made it out to be. 

He surprised me by coming over and making me “linner”. (It's like brunch except it was between lunch and dinner because I slept in.) We made our food, turned on a movie, and about half an hour in, we turned to each other and we kissed. 

He tasted like the burnt bacon from our BLTs and my favorite brand of chocolate milk that he picked up on his way over, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. 

When we pulled apart, we laughed and laughed and laughed. We laughed at the lettuce caught in his teeth, we laughed at the tomato seeds stuck to my chin, and we laughed at two twenty-somethings sharing a meal on a worn out couch with swollen lips and racing hearts. 

It wasn't what you're thinking, though. He leaves for Hawaii soon. He doesn't know what's out there for him, but he hopes to find out while he's gone. 

We kissed to say goodbye, and I'm at peace with that. 

I hope that somehow you are, too. 

 

**_August 28, 4:33 pm_ **

At first, I was scared to tell you about yesterday (even if I'm sure you won't touch this book). It was incredibly anxiety inducing, so I figured I could turn to Lucas for comfort after writing to you. 

The thing is that I had no problem telling you. I was excited to tell you. I'm moving on from you. I'm recovering and I'm happy and I wanted you to know that, but the idea of Lucas finding out about yesterday?? That's enough to take the air from my lungs. 

I don't regret kissing him. It's just that while kissing him, there were lingering feelings drumming from deep within my chest crying that I should be kissing someone else. 

I assumed they were for you, and that would be what makes sense in this scenario-- 

Except I wasn't afraid to tell you.

I'm afraid to tell Lucas. 

 

**_August 30, 2:32 am_ **

I told him, and he wasn't angry. 

He shrugged and said he had no place to get upset because I am not his to kiss. 

I jokingly asked if he wanted to be, and I'm lying awake right now wondering how much of that question was really a joke. 

 

**_August 31, 4:36 am_ **

I don't know why you didn't believe me when I told you that I loved you. 

You would say that you did, but then you'd have hoops for me to jump through to prove my love to you. 

If I really loved you, I wouldn't mind spending less time with my friends and family because you wanted to see me. 

If I really loved you, I would happily hang on your arm at tons of parties ridden with drugs and hazes of smoke that I wanted nothing to do with because you needed to go. 

If I really loved you, I would be by your side with your dinner hot and ready every single night because that's what a good girlfriend does. 

But I wasn't a good girlfriend to you. I was too mouthy, too outgoing, too sloppy, too stupid. I wasn't punctual enough. I was a distraction, a pest while you wrote. I wasn't obedient to you, and you wanted nothing more in this world than my obedience. 

I wanted nothing more in this world than for you to see how much I loved you. 

What a pity. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment subscribe reviews kudos all that shameless telling you to show your friends and that fun stuff!!!


	3. September

** _September 1, 3:52 pm_ **

I think about you constantly. 

I know I only write one entry a day, if that, but you're still persistently weaving your way into every thought I possess. 

My therapist says it’s normal that I feel this way. He insists that I'm doing great for someone in my position. He’s even surprised by the progress I've made- but I don't really see any. 

I'm still terrified to do anything on my own. I'm still setting your place at dinner and keeping the routines that you forced me to. I can still feel the weight of your grasp deep in my bones. 

Even still, he’s surprised by the progress I've made and I'm working on believing him. 

 

** _September 2, 7:24 pm_ **

You ask your friends about me. I saw a few of them while shopping today, and they told me that you were trying to get in touch. I don't know why you ask them considering I only ever hung out with them because of you, but still, it's oddly settling for me to know that you still wonder. 

 

** _September 3, 1:17 pm_ **

I started group therapy today. It's cool, or at least I think it is so far. I haven't really talked much yet. I shared my name, my age, how long has passed since I've last seen you, but, other than that, I laid pretty low for my first day. 

There's a girl there named Julia, and her ex boyfriend reminds me a lot about you. He was so angry and impulsive, always screaming at her for some reason. She trembles when she speaks of him, but there's a fondness there that makes my skin crawl. 

After the session, there was this little table with fruits and cookies and water that I lingered around for a few minutes. I didn't have anything, but Julia walked up and snatched the biggest chocolate chip cookie there was, and we bonded over that being our favorite type. We both laughed, and she ended up breaking the treat in half with a friendly smile to share it with me. 

I don't think I'm going to mind group therapy all that much. 

 

** _September 4, 11:21 pm_ **

I'm scared that I'm using Lucas. 

We had dinner tonight, like we seem to usually have together nowadays, and he even went to the trouble of getting it from my favorite Mexican place out of his way from work to my apartment. I thanked him with a kiss, but when he smiled so wide at me that it seemed like his cheeks were going to burst an odd sense of guilt pooled in my stomach. 

There's this sort of hero complex that I'm afraid I'm giving him. I did it with Josh, indulging in the fact I felt loved and safe around him, and I rationalized doing it with Josh because he was leaving. It didn't matter. 

Lucas isn't leaving, though, and I don't think it's okay to kiss him when you're still constantly in the back of my mind. I can't interlace our fingers while we’re walking around the store just because he's close and he's inviting and he's so fucking sweet to me that I don't even know what to do with myself because I become so flustered. Sharing his bed tangled in each other with his lips on my skin isn't okay just because he’s caring and he's gentle and he isn't going anywhere. 

He stares into my eyes and he promises me that he's never going to leave and I believe him, so it's not okay to treat him like this. He deserves better. He deserves to be loved by someone that can offer all of their heart, and I still kissed him tonight knowing that I can't do that right now. 

Why do I have to be so fucking selfish? 

 

**_September 5, 6:33 am_ **

There was this little girl that used to ask me about you when I would sketch in the park. She would see the details in your eyes when I drew you, and she'd sit next to me to ask if that's what eyes looked like when you're in love. 

I said yes, of course I said yes, and she would tell me all about how her mother was an artist, too. It was purely joyful, and this little ray of sunshine would grin up at me and describe the gorgeous artwork that she watched come to life in the corner of her living room. 

At no more than ten, she couldn't help getting lost in the wonders of art. She would even sometimes bring her own pad of paper so that she could draw beside me while we listened to the music of street performers in the distance. She would ask why you never came with me to the park- I looked awfully lonely before she began to join me apparently- and I would tell her that it was because you were much too busy writing wonderful novels that were destined to get published one day soon. 

In reality, it was because I didn't want her to meet you. You knew that I would regularly walk down that little path near the campus because sketching outdoors was one of my favorite things to do, but I always insisted that you stay back when I went. Not that you offered many times to accompany me, but still. I loved that beneath the sleeves of my coat, marks from you were hidden and she didn't know the nature of your affection. I loved that I had someone to tell all of your best sides to, even if she was pint sized and naive to the many complications that relationships hold. 

I hope that one day she finds a boy that treats her in the ways that I told her you treated me. I hope that he's good to her and he wraps his arm around her while walking with her to the park so that she can sketch outdoors. And I hope that she draws his eyes with a hypnotizing gleam casting over the most gorgeous color she could ever imagine because that's what they look like when you're in love. 

 

**_September 6, 11:53 pm_ **

I applied for a job. It'll be my first real job as an adult, not counting those in between waitress gigs I picked up here and there between classes or the handful of sketches I've managed to sell since high school, and I’m actually pretty excited for it. 

If I’m lucky, you’re receiving this entry from the newest staff member of St. Joseph’s Psychiatric Health Center. It’s the same hospital that Riley volunteers at except I’d actually be getting paid to do daily art classes with the kids in the residential wing. It wouldn’t be much, but it’d be some type of income and I’d be helping others. My therapist thinks it’s a great idea. 

It feels strange making such a big commitment without consulting with you.  

 

**_September 7, 5:44 pm_ **

I shattered a bottle of your cologne against my bedroom wall today when I thought too hard about what happened between us. I was going to spray it just once to feel like you were home again, but when I did, the only thing that I felt was anger rising within me and so I threw it as hard as I could. 

The entire room smells like you now. It’s softly and slowly killing me, I know it, but there’s a twisted pleasure in this pain that I’m getting from being suffocated within my own walls from the boy who loved me. 

Cleaning up the shattered remains of the bottle, I wondered if you were the only one in our relationship with anger problems. 

 

**_September 8, 9:51 pm_ **

You used to tell me stories when I couldn't sleep. It was back in the beginning during the transition of good and bad, and if I close my eyes and I really, really listen to the silence surrounding me, I can hear them. 

I think I'm going crazy when I do because I'm hearing voices. Signs of a complete psycho, right? But it doesn't even matter to me because it's your voice making my heart hum. It's you. It's always you. 

 

**_September 9, 7:12 pm_ **

I told Lucas how I feel this afternoon. 

He disagrees, but he says that he only wants me comfortable with him, and so he is going to try his best not to kiss my pretty face anymore- his words, not mine. 

He makes me wish that I still wouldn't crave you so much. 

 

**_September 10, 12:55 pm_ **

I want to think you've gotten better. 

When we ran into each other before, it seemed like you had. You were soft and gentle and loving and so sweet to me before I left you stranded. I've always wanted to save you, and, for a second, I thought by leaving you I had. Now that we’ve been apart, you realize what you've done. I realize what I've done. We’ve changed by now, don't you think? 

Nobody in group therapy thinks so. I spoke about you because today we were discussing what it's like running into our exes after the break up, and I tried to tell them that I'm sure you've changed and I'm happy for that, but again and again they said that I shouldn't let one encounter fool me. Love blinds us from the truth. 

I just want to know how big of an issue it really is if I can't even see it. 

 

**_September 11, 4:43 pm_ **

I got the job, John. I start in a few days. 

You're the first one to know besides Riley, but that's only because she was with me when I got the call. I don't think I've been this happy in years. Isn't that depressing? 

I think so, at least. 

 

**_September 12, 3:11 am_ **

I’m wearing one of your shirts to sleep. I know that I was supposed to get rid of all of your things by now, but I can't bring myself to do it. I just want you to come home. I want you to leave your laundry all over the bathroom and to leave me little to no orange juice in the morning and to hold me while I try to sleep. 

Maybe I can at least dream of those things if I lay in my bed in only your shirt and I hope, hope,  hope. 

 

**_September 13, 8:22 pm_ **

I heard our song at dinner with Riley. It made my heart flutter and I smiled so wide it hurt. She told me that she's glad I'm doing better without you so I didn't tell her why I was smiling. 

 

**_September 14, 10:51 am_ **

Julia and I are going to lunch in a little bit. It's been a while since I made a new friend so I'm a little anxious, but I'm mostly excited. We’re going to some Italian place deep in the city that her friend runs that she says is the best food I'll ever eat. 

She obviously hasn't had your steak. 

 

**_September 15, 6:54 am_ **

Work today, work tomorrow, work everyday because I work now as a functioning adult with a job. What a life, am I right? 

Lucas is waiting in his truck to take me to breakfast before my big day so I can't write much to you, but I just wanted to tell you that I miss you and I love you. I wish I could celebrate today with you. 

 

**_September 16, 2:41 am_ **

I'm trying to sleep, but I just feel so alone. I didn't know what to do, so I called Riley and she's going to come sit with me and watch old reruns of Full House until we both pass out. 

I love her, far more than I ever loved you, and so I think that I'll be okay despite wanting nothing more than to be with you again. 

 

**_September 17, 9:21 pm_ **

I told Julia that I miss you today after group, and she told me to try and think of all the ways you've done me wrong. (It's what she does when she misses her ex.)

So, I tried and I tried and I tried to make you the villain, but I couldn't, and I'm trying to find the strength in me to talk about ways you should've been better, but I just can't. 

I should've been better to you, and you wouldn't have been like that. I know that now. I knew that before. I'm so sorry. 

 

**_September 18, 5:52 am_ **

I'm not going to call you. 

I won't. 

I can't. 

For Riley, for Lucas, for my family, for myself, I can't. 

 

**_September 19, 11:14 pm_ **

I gave in. 

I have a good reason, though, I really do- I was starting to forget the sound of your voice. I was thinking about you and the rasp you possessed wasn't sticking correctly, and so I called you purely to hear your voice, but somehow that turned into dinner. 

We met at that bakery (our bakery) and we ordered our favorite soup with rolls to share. 

Over bowls brimming with broccoli and cheddar, you charmed me again. It was like that first week only better because you were the person that I spent years wishing I could get back. I couldn't help how ecstatic I was. You made jokes and you smiled so big and everything just felt right after so many nights of restless tossing and desperate tears. 

Towards the end of dinner, you switched over to my side of the booth and asked one of the servers to take a picture of us. Your arm snaked around my waist and pulled me so close that I couldn't help but laugh, and she snapped it.

And when I got home, the rasp was back.

 

**_September 20, 6:53 pm_ **

We had lunch today, and you're getting better. I know that no one believes me when I say that, but you really are. 

Riley is so upset with me that she won't even speak to me. Lucas wouldn't even look at me when I told him. 

You're better, though. It's going to be better. I don't even think that I need this book anymore because you're better and we’re going to be better, John. 

 

**_September 23, 11:26 pm_ **

It's not getting better. 

You got angry with me and you hit me. Lucas wants to beat the shit out of you. Fuck, he probably will. He isn't going to let you near me ever again. 

I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. 

 

**_September 24, 3:18 pm_ **

Before, I would never say that you abused me. Abuse is such a strong word that I don't like to use it. When I think of it, I picture a shattered girl crying in the mirror with bruises covering her skin. I picture angry men swinging their fists. I picture screaming and crying and terrible monsters that hurt people that love them. I never would picture you. 

The thing is, with my tinted cheek and red rimmed eyes, that's who I became. That's what you did to me. You covered me in bruises and you swung your fists and you hurt me, John. 

You abused me, and I see that now. I see how you are the villain. 

Abusers aren't monsters that lurk in dark alleys to attack innocent souls. They're beautiful boys with soothing voices and short tempers that don't excuse the damage they do. 

 

**_September 25, 11:43 pm_ **

You used to call me your songbird. 

You said that it was because you heard music when I smiled, and that made me the happiest I was in the three years that we were together. 

I later found out that it wasn't because of my grin that you donned me with such a name. It was because she was a singer, and having one nickname was easier than two. 

You didn't know that I knew about her, but I did. She came to your dorm one night, dead eyes and a fractured smile asking for you. You weren't there- you had just stormed out only ten minutes earlier because you claimed I hoarded your sanctuary with worthless ideas that you would never incorporate into your creative writing paper- so I took the liberty of answering her knock.    
I opened your door, frantically swiping my tears as they slid down my cheeks and I was met with a girl nearly as broken as I was. 

“Is John here?” she asked, the turning of the corners of her lips almost too forced to want yes as an answer. I told her that you weren't, and I asked who she was. I said that I would make sure tell you that she stopped by, but she insisted it was alright and shared a warm look with me.

I wonder if she saw in me what I saw in her that night; traces of you battered into the freckles across her pale cheeks, venom from your tongue causing her veins to burn in regret and guilt, relief flooding her crystal eyes as I told her that you weren't anywhere to be found. 

Anastasia is such a beautiful name. I can't imagine why you ever wanted to call her anything else.

 

**_September 26, 4:13 am_ **

I sang, too. 

You never asked because you never listened, but I sang, too. 

 

**_September 27, 8:54 pm_ **

My therapist insisted that I take a few days off of work, and the hospital was really understanding about it. I think it helps that they partner with the office he works in. 

I hate feeling so helpless in all of this, but I'm just trying to take the help that I need. I just want to be okay again. 

 

**_September 28, 3:42 pm_ **

Lucas hasn't left my side since we broke up again. He’s greeted me every morning with breakfast and a flower he picked from that little patch of garden outside his building since last week. He takes me to therapy and he watches the Bachelor with me and he even sits while I paint, humming little songs to fill the silence. 

What a huckleberry. 

 

**_September 29, 3:27 am_ **

Do you remember that morning that you brought up moving in together? I thought you were crazy- only 21 and moving in? I knew we were graduating soon and would have to find somewhere, but I always assumed I'd live with Riley. 

You made sure I saw different. You painted a beautiful home for us. You told me of our open living room and grand kitchen to host dinners from. You promised a bay window of my own to share when Riles would stop by. You told me that in years, we'd have little writers roaming the halls of our palace, spitting images of you. 

Do you remember the look of hope in my eyes when I asked about an art studio? 

Do you remember it shattering when you asked why I'd possibly get an entire room dedicated to my clutter? My little doodles needing a dedicated space was ridiculous. Writing was a realistic dream for you, so you'd get an office, but my scribbles would never pay the bills like your novels would. 

They'd sit there and rot, you said. 

I'd sit there and waste my life, you said. 

I smiled to you and said that I was just kidding, and you said that you figured because only a real joke would suggest such a thing. 

It kills me that I was a joke to you. 

 

**_September 30, 1:12 pm_ **

I threw out your things today. 

I really did it, and I left nothing behind because I am going to bounce back from this ten times better than I was going in. 

It'll be hard, and I'll want to run back to you, but I won't because I'm stronger than what you lead me to believe. I'm stronger than you ever bothered to know.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so rushed i would like to thank not only god but jesus for lily for editing this and making it presentable


	4. October

**_October 1, 4:18 pm_ **

Group therapy is far less fun when you're fresh off your second breakup with your abusive ex boyfriend, in case you didn't know. Not that it was necessarily fun before, but it was definitely not as tense as it ended up being once I revealed why I skipped last week’s meeting.

I also acknowledged you as abusive for the first time during that awkward gathering. The therapist’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head, and I nodded because that's what you were and that's not okay.

 

**_October 2, 12:32 pm_ **

Lucas has this entire month mapped out with big, Halloween themed plans for the two of us. He told me about it this morning before I was instructed to clear out my entire living room to make space for our extravagant blanket fort that we will lay in during a scary movie marathon tonight.

Can you believe it? The boy that needs me to help remind him when it's garbage night has planned an entire month of activities on his own. I don't know if it's more cute and thoughtful or utterly ironic, but I do know that I'm excited and that all seventeen of the pillows scattered around my apartment are now piled where my couch usually is so that Lucas and I can use them like children.

 

**_October 3, 10:56 pm_ **

Julia writes poetry. She showed me today when she visited during my break at work, and she's really good at it. We ate at a little pastry shop that was doing open mic, and she recited possibly the most beautiful piece of art I’d ever had the privilege of experiencing.

It was about her ex boyfriend. I didn't have to ask because by the second line, I was already thinking of you.

The most tragic thing about it all was that no one that is not unhappy could write words that draw pain from those that read them so well, and she deserves nothing more than all happiness in the world.

Then again, no one that is not unhappy could relate to what she wrote so well, and I deserve more happiness than what you allowed me to have. Maybe that's why we're such good friends.

 

**_October 4, 5:07_** **_pm_**

Riley and I started brainstorming costume ideas. It's the first time I'm joining the group since before we started dating, and everyone is really hyped up about it. We were looking through random websites, and she was leaning towards wanting a pastry theme so that she can go as a cupcake, but I convinced her that a birthday theme would make more sense. She thinks it's because I wanted to be said birthday girl, but I actually just want to see Lucas dressed up as a pinata.

 

**_October 5, 1:37 am_ **

I just got off the phone with Josh. He has a girlfriend now. Her name is Rose and he really likes her. You can hear it in the way that he says her name.

She's studying to be a psychologist, and she has done this amazing volunteer work all over the islands counseling people and such. Sounds almost unreal, I know, but he sent pictures of them together so that I would stop teasing him about his imaginary girlfriend. She's sarcastic and witty and so damn beautiful that he couldn't even find the words to describe her.

He says that she reminds him of me, and we smiled fondly while we talked about how we could have loved each other that way, how that dinner all those weeks ago would be one of the best dates either of us will ever have. In a different life, a different time, a different world, we would end up together.

(In a different life, a different time, a different world, I wouldn't have been with you.)

The universe works in crazy ways.

 

**_October 6, 5:21 pm_ **

In the hospital, the residential wing has seven kids in it. There's Serena, Olivia, Nicholas, Thomas, Lauren, Jill, and Ben.

They're all great. You didn't exactly like kids, but I do and as far as they go, this bunch is pretty top notch.

The youngest is Nicholas. He's seven, and we all call him Nicky since that's what he asks us to. A nurse was strolling deep in the city doing errands one day and found him behind a Chinese takeout place. When she brought him into work, the state got involved and he ended up admitted after a psychological evaluation. He hears voices sometimes, dark ones in the back of his mind that he says helped him survive out in the streets. He calls them monsters, and it makes me think about when others have called you a monster.

Perspective is strange.

Jill and Lauren are the second youngest. They're nine year old twins. They have such severe separation anxiety from each other that their parents were forced to sign them in by their school. Apparently Lauren had to stay in from recess for misbehaving, and when Jill wasn't allowed to give up her time, too, she went apeshit and tried to bite off a chunk of her teacher’s arm. They’re sweet girls, really. They're just passionate. Everyone is hoping that after a few months of treatment, they'll be stable enough to send off into the real world.

Next is Ben. He's nine, too, and had a really bad habit of running away. He would have to be escorted back to his home at least twice a week, and after one big meltdown between his parents, he made it almost two towns over before anyone got to him. He didn't understand it when everyone told him that he couldn't make it on his own and basically told his school’s social worker to fuck off. It's a really entertaining story to read on paper, but much less entertaining for that social worker, I'm sure.

Ten year old Serena is possibly my favorite, even though I'm not allowed to pick one. She's being treated for bipolar disorder, and is possibly one of the funniest little girls on this planet. She’s constantly putting a smile on everyone's face, and is typically my helper when it comes to the few art projects I've started with them. The nurses said that she's practically a mini me when we're in a room together, so I feel like you'd like her.

Thomas is eleven, and he is a pint sized Lucas if we're being honest. His anger issues got him a bed on our lovely second floor wing after he tried to beat his fifth grade teacher to a pulp. Rumor has it that she was only bruised, but it took three staff members to rip him off. Being a sports fan, he was more than aware of the “three strikes, you're out” policy when he ended that day in the guidance counselor’s office. His mom even reminds me of Huckleberry’s; all sweet and concerned and wanting so much more for her little boy than a life of fighting. His life reminds me of Friar so damn much that I know he's gonna be okay, especially now that he's working out help while he's young.

Last but not least is Olivia. Man, does that little girl have a mouth on her. Well, not little exactly. She's taller than I am. Granted, I'm not that tall, but still, without heels, she towers me. She's the oldest at twelve, and she is louder than a fire engine. Therapists are hoping to manage her ADHD without medication, hence hospitalization for monitoring and guidance after being kicked out of her (third) school for being too disruptive. I don't see why they would go as far as kicking her out when I spend time with her, but, then again, I'm not exactly foreign to being removed from a classroom myself.

And don't worry, I didn't like sneak this information or anything. When they hired me after doing background checks and everything, all of the kids’ parents signed agreements that I could see the files and I made sure to meet them so that I could introduce myself. Well, I met the ones that came to visit, at least. You'd be surprised at how many don't.

 

**_October 7, 11:19 pm_ **

Group today was far less stressful than last week. Julia and I sat together, which is a regular thing now, and I held her hand when she told everyone that she'd seen her ex, Victor, last weekend at Target.

They've been broken up for seven months, and she still can't even look at him. She was shaking so bad when she even mentioned him that we had to be excused so that I could help her collect herself in the bathroom.

I know that it's wrong to say, but I hope that I'm better than that when it reaches seven months. It's not that she's any less strong for not being there, but she's just in so much pain because of him. I really hope that you still won't hurt me like that come February.

 

**_October 8, 2:48 am_ **

My parents used to fight when I was young. My mom would bring up something that my dad didn't want to talk about, push it and push it until they were screaming at each other, and then it'd blow into this huge scene of throwing things and threatening divorces. She would be the one to start it, and he would be the one to end it by walking out the door and disappearing for weeks at a time.

When he would return, we would have a big dinner and he would tuck me in long after my bedtime that night with a big kiss on my forehead and a pinch on my nose. He would say that he came back for me. He would always come back for me.

And then one day, he didn't.

I would see that when we would fight, and so I wouldn't fight. I would submit and I would agree and I would give up everything I believed in or loved so that you wouldn't stop coming back to me. And you didn't.

The sad thing is that looking back now, I kind of wish that you had.

 

**_October 9, 11:17 pm_ **

Lucas took me on a hayride tonight. It was “haunted”, which means that I spent the entire time laughing at Lucas practically pissing himself whenever anyone jumped out at us.

He claims it was genuine, but I think it was just a show to hold my hand all night. I guess we’ll never know.

 

**_October 10, 9:33 am_ **

Did you want me to be happy?

I asked Lucas why he does the things that he does this morning. He drives me to work and he buys me breakfast and he plans fun things for us to do and he says silly Texas things to make me laugh and he just does so much for me that I had to ask, and he looked me in the eye and softly grinned, “Because I want you to be happy, Maya.”

And I've been thinking and thinking about that because if he's doing all those things because he wants me happy, then why would you treat me the way that you did?

I really hope that one day I get an answer.

 

**_October 11, 12:13 am_ **

I don't really know what to say right now. I just wanted to write to you on 10/11 at 12:13. Get it?

(Explained, just in case you don't:

10/11, 12:13

10, 11, 12, 13)

 

**_October 12, 5:33 am_ **

Lauren and Jill turn ten today, and so Lucas and I spent all night making cupcakes for me to bring into work. It's not a visiting day today which means that they won't even see their parents, so we're going to try and give them the best time possible while cooped up in a hospital.

The game plan is to set up our usual art room as a super cool party spot with homemade cupcakes and pizza and juice boxes that we stole from the cart for snacks. Ranger Rick is even going to come in and help decorate using some of the leftover supplies from Auggie’s welcome home party after his bike accident.

I'm a little nervous for the kids to all meet Lucas. I mean, what if they don't like him? I know that I haven't worked there long, but they mean a lot to me already. It would kill me if they hated him.

Who am I kidding? He's a good guy. Who wouldn't fall in love?

 

**_October 13, 7:27 pm_ **

I'm mad at Riley right now.

We had dinner tonight with Julia and Lucas so that all of my closest friends could get acquainted better. Sounds intense, I know, and that's exactly what it was.

Riley poured an entire glass of iced tea into Julia’s lap.

She doesn't like the idea of me being so close with someone else so she basically threw a fit, and I tried to explained to her that sometimes it's just easier to talk with someone about things that can relate better- which Riley can't, but she couldn't really grasp that fact.

I get that she's jealous, but the entire night was sort of a bust thanks to it, and Julia ended up leaving early because she was uncomfortable and dripping of Lipton’s half and half.

Julia's being really understanding about it, and Lucas says he's gonna try to talk to Riley a bit more, so here's to hoping for the best.

 

**_October 14, 9:21 pm_ **

Riley’s terrified of losing me again. She showed up at my doorstep and completely broke down within ten minutes of me getting home from work, and it's killing her that I don't go to her to talk about you.

She says she just got me back. She can't bear the thought of someone being a better best friend to me than her. It's just that I can't talk to her about the things that you did to me. It humiliates me that she sees me as so strong but I let you kick me around like a doll. I wish there was a way to help her understand that.

 

**_October 15, 8:49 pm_ **

Lucas and I went pumpkin picking today. Well, ugly gourd picking, but it was at a pumpkin farm so it sort of counts. We got a total of seventeen, and we spent hours painting them after he took me to the little petting zoo they have next door.

Did you know that Cowboy actually knows how to milk a cow? He showed me today after telling the handler that he grew up on a farm. He explained each step southern accent and all, too. I can't tell if it was excruciating or amazing.

(Maybe a little of both.)

 

**_October 16, 11:56 am_ **

I need to try writing to you less, I think. It's what my friend Eloise suggests. She's in group with me, and her and her boyfriend have been broken up for five months.

She's doing really well considering. She's even dating again, which sounds terrible in my opinion. She's going out with these random guys that she meets and gets along with, and I don't know how she is finding all this trust to give them.

Fuck, I wish I had trust to just give away like that.

 

**_October 17, 6:33 pm_ **

Ben had an episode today.

It was a visitation day which means that art class is split in half and the kids with visitors leave about an hour or so to go see everyone there for them while everyone remaining stays back and does another project during the wait. For the first time since I've been working there, both his mother and his father came to see him.

He hits her. I can see it in the way that she flinches when they're together, in the makeup that she uses to cover up the bruises. Ben saw him walk in with his arm around her, and he lost it. He flipped over a table, he tried to beat the shit out of the nurse that held him back, he screamed for his father to rot in hell. He's normally so quiet that I didn't believe it was actually him who was speaking, but it was.

I helped him into his room while the other kids said goodbye to their family members, and he told me that he used to run away because of his dad. He doesn't think that they should let mean men like that into hospitals unless they're getting admitted.

I told him not to take it out on his mother. She's trying her best, and I can tell how much she loves him. The problem is that she loves his father just as much, and love makes adults do silly, silly things.

He replied that he doesn't understand love if it looks like shattering bottles against walls and his mother sobbing in the bathroom with marks all over her skin.

I don't think I understand love either.

 

**_October 18, 7:21 am_ **

There was a shirt of yours behind my dresser. Instead of holding on to it like I would've weeks ago, I threw it right into the garbage because I have no use for it, and I called Julia as soon as I did it because I'm getting better and she threw out her ex’s things last Wednesday, and we’re going to make it through this with our heads held high.

 

**_October 19, 4:57 am_ **

It's Julia’s birthday! We’re spending the entire day together, and I even took off work so that we could drive to the gigantic zoo a few towns over with Lucas because she insisted I take him with us.

I don't know why she's so fond of Howdy Dandy, but it's her special day so he's picking us up in fifteen minutes to start our trip and he's already called twice to make sure I'm getting ready to go because he knows how I am about going back to sleep after my alarms.

Fucking Huckleberry.

 

**_October 20, 1:44 am_ **

Julia's friend, Zac, ended up crashing our big birthday zoo trip, and it felt too much like a double date for me not to have a meltdown as soon as Lucas and I got back to my apartment.

Julia and I had the time of our lives taking pictures everywhere with our hands interlocked and cotton candy sticking to the corners of our mouths. We saw every exhibit and ate enough for a village, and the boys followed us around with our coats in their hands and a fond smile on their lips as they recorded us on Snapchat dancing around the giant swan fountain and singing along to the music softly humming from the speakers throughout the park.

It was fun and it was sweet and it was pure and I loved it so, so much that as soon as I got back, I completely broke down and had a full blown panic attack against Lucas’s chest. He brushed down my hair and kissed the top of my head while I sobbed and Julia ended up calling me because she freaked out for the same reason.

In the end, Lucas went and picked her up and we made hot cocoa with rum stirred into the milk and looked back at all the photos we took. We don't think we’re ready to date just yet, and that's okay because we're still getting better and we still had a very fun day at the zoo regardless. We're gonna try to do it again sometime next month.

 

**_October 21, 12:47 pm_ **

You'll never guess who joined group today.

Missy fucking Bradford.

Do you remember her? I dated her for like two months in high school and boys would get us drunk at parties so that we'd make out in front of them even though we'd do it anyways because we were, y’know, dating, but I repeat- high school boys. We also did nothing but fight and fuck in the handicap stall in the girls’ bathroom during calculus, but those are stories for another day.

Anyways, you can imagine my surprise when Missy fucking Bradford and all of her high horse glory walked into a group therapy session for abuse victims. You can also imagine my surprise at the toll the abuse had taken on her.

She would barely talk. The girl who couldn't close her mouth for a total of ten seconds since elementary school was fumbling over her muttered words terribly. She trembled as she stared at the ground, avoiding any eye contact with us.

I barely even recognized her.

 

**_October 22, 11:19 am_ **

Did you know that today is National Nut Day? That's an actual thing. A day entirely dedicated to nuts.

I only know because Lucas bought me an entire tray of them in honor of it. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a tray full of shelled nuts?? No clue, but he insisted that we celebrate something non Halloween based this month, so Nut Day it was.

On that note, Happy National Nut Day. I hope that you don't get a platter of useless nuts without a nutcracker that is probably going to sit on your counter for months to come.

 

**_October 23, 11:56 pm_ **

We tried the whole “all of Maya’s important friends in one place” thing again with surprising success. There's this fall festival thing going on, and we (me, Lucas, Julia, Zac, Riley, and some dude that works at the blood bank she donates to) ended up going as this giant group. It was a lot more balanced this time, and Julia and Riley even sat next to each other when Lucas stole me for himself on the teacups. She apologized for the whole incident earlier in the month and we all had a good time, I think.

I didn't even have a meltdown when I got home. I posted all of our pictures online so that everyone could see what a great time we had. Wonderful nights with wonderful friends are more than worth showing off.

 

**_October 24, 6:53 pm_ **

Riley met all of the kids in my wing of the hospital today, and they all absolutely adore her. We did a big music lesson and she danced around with Nicky on her hip and her free hand attached to Olivia, and I wish it would've been an artwork day because, wow, did that paint a pretty picture.

 

**_October 25, 4:01 pm_ **

Lucas is taking me to some retro drive in like an hour and a half away because having a Jaws marathon. He got us these shark onesies that have to be the lamest things in the world but they're super comfy and we match, so I guess it's kinda cute.

(Especially when he pulled the hood over his eyes and sang the Jaws theme offbeat when we got caught in traffic, but only kinda.)

 

**_October 26, 6:10 pm_ **

Ricky called me today.

I ignored it because I couldn't think of any reason I would accept a phone call from your best friend, but you should know that he called.

 

**_October 27, 5:06 pm_ **

Spending a day alone makes me realize how much I miss you. It’s been a lot easier because I've been keeping so busy lately, but without anyone around to distract me, I fall right back into the pattern of wishing you were here.

I'm going to talk about it tomorrow I think. I'll see if anyone in group has any tips or anything. Hopefully someone can help.

 

**_October 28, 4:40 pm_ **

Missy has a son now. His name is Caleb and he is three years old this upcoming December. We caught up a bit after therapy, and she showed me pictures of this giddy baby with chubby limbs and rosy cheeks. He's currently living with her mom, but I didn't have to ask why.

She got married, too. Her husband didn't like her friends so they had a small ceremony at the courthouse with his friends and family. She had a busted lip in the photos, but I told her that I wished I could've seen her look that beautiful in person still because it was the truth.

When I see her smile now, I can picture us being seventeen again, sneaking wine coolers from her mom’s mini fridge in her garage to drink while I painted trees stemming from the notches of her spine. We would tug each other all over the hallways in search for little corners to tuck ourselves into. We were reckless and happy and teenagers basking in the rebellion of stolen kisses under the bleachers.

Now she's divorced with a shattered collarbone and a baby that lives an hour away from her, and I'm alone with shattered dreams of museums in my name and a boy that loves me so much that he's willing to wait for a girl that may never be completely okay again. I wonder if things would be different had we fallen in love.

 

**_October 29, 2:26 pm_ **

The twins gave me a card today that said ‘Best Teacher Ever!’ in highlighter on the back of one of the hospital’s brochures. I framed it and put it on my desk in my bedroom so that I can see it every day.

I know that you wouldn't, but I love my job.

 

**_October 30, 9:03 pm_ **

So, making a pinata costume for Lucas is far less easy than one might assume. After hours of trial and error, we managed to hot glue post it notes all over one of his older shirts to look somewhat like what we were going for, but it's still a tiny bit of a stretch. We’re hoping that plucking a party hat on my head and putting his old baseball bat in my hands will get the point across.

 

**_October 31, 8:18 pm_ **

I'm leaving for Zay’s party soon. I just wanted to tell you that I hope you have a good time at Ricky’s tonight. I really wanted to text him that I'm sorry I couldn't make it this year, but I decided against it for your sake.

Wish me luck with all my friends. I haven't been to a party with them since before college even started, so this will definitely be an adventure. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.

Happy Halloween, John. Stay safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so rushed and gross i am the worst with deadlines pls enjoy this lil filler  
> pls like and comment and reviews and kudos and rec it and all that stuff to boost my ego bc that encourages my muse and you will actually get more fics from me!!


	5. November

**_November 1, 12:52 pm_ **

You wouldn't be proud of the things that I did last night, so I won't tell you much about them. We can just leave it at me attending a party with all my closest friends and drinking three times my weight in various liquor infused fruity concoctions, all courtesy of the phenomenal bartender that Zay spent a quarter of his life savings making sure was serving his insanely packed loft. 

I will tell you that I had fun, though. A lot of it. It was my first big outing with such a group, so I sort of clung to Lucas for most of it, but I was there and present and had this odd sense of home when all of us ended up in one corner of the room, laughing over booming music and attempting to throw pretzels into each other’s mouths. I don't really remember much after that because we landed at the bar, but Lucas said that he kept me out of trouble, and I trust him. I really do. 

 

**_November 2, 11:17 pm_ **

Lucas’s shirt is softer than yours against my skin when I'm curled up in my blankets, singing to the moon about the boy that was supposed to love me until I was old and grey. I hope that one day soon, my song may change- but until then, at least I'm comfortable. 

 

**_November 3, 5:33 am_ **

Does your new girlfriend know that you prefer blackberry jam to grape on your toast every morning? Or exactly how hot to run your shower? Does she know how sour the day turns if she doesn't set out your journal beside your coffee so that you can record your dreams for your documentary you're sure will be filmed once you sell your first novel? 

With a temper like yours, I'm sure that she does, but it doesn't hurt to check. 

 

**_November 4, 6:16 pm_ **

Missy is doing okay, in case you were wondering. I now sit between her and Julia, and that's nice. It makes the whole experienced a lot less exhausting. 

We caught lunch today afterwards, too. She spent almost the entire time rambling on and on about her son, but I didn't stop her. It was sweet. 

She misses him like crazy. Hell, with how much I know about him now, I miss him like crazy and I haven't even met him yet- though, I'm hoping to change that soon because she even invited me to go and see him in a few days. Her mom hasn't seen me since she caught us making out in their basement senior year, so that should be interesting. 

Stay tuned for that one.

 

**_November 5, 2:29 am_ **

On a rainy day in late August a handful of years ago, a young author drew a heart into the fog of the glass in a bakery that was growing damp from the humidity of a brewing storm outdoors before he kissed a bright artist for the very first time. 

When I tell the beginning of our story anonymously, it sounds pretty beautiful- don't you think? I only wish it stayed that way. 

 

**_November 6, 9:58 pm_ **

I had to call you tonight. It didn't hurt as much as I thought that it would. 

I found out that you've been trying to get in contact through my mom to talk to me. I knew about you trying to call Farkle or Riley every so often, but you knew that my mother wouldn't ignore you, so when you started trying her, I had to cut in. 

I very politely told you to please stop trying to get in contact with me and anyone else in my life. I was assertive and forceful and I didn't even stutter when I spoke to you, and so I was so excited about it that I called Julia and I cried tears of joy because I'm better now. I'm better than I was and I'm better than I was scared I couldn't be and I don't want to run to you right now, John. I don't want to run to you and I don't want to kiss you and I don't want to even be near you because you hurt me and you manipulated me and you  abused me, you piece of shit. 

I've been in almost five months of therapy trying to get to this point and I'm finally here where you can't touch me. You can't ruin this for me. 

I won't let you. 

 

**_November 7, 7:44 pm_ **

I'm afraid I'm a bad person. 

Riley called me to tell me how much she misses me, and so I told her how much I miss her, too- but I'm not sure how much I really miss her. I hadn't even noticed that we hadn't talked for a week until she brought it up today. Even when I did last see her, I spent pretty much the entirety of Halloween by Huckleberry’s side. 

I've pretty much forgotten the existence of my best friend for nearly two weeks, and anyone that forgets Riley has to be a bad person. Don't they? 

 

**_November 8, 6:28 pm_ **

At work today, Olivia got her hair caught in a doorknob and we spent nearly an entire hour trying to get her untangled. 

Long story short, we ended up chopping off a grand total of six inches of hair so now she's rocking a cute little bob. It reminded me of Riley, and so I called her and told her that I love her. 

I'm convinced that the way she tells me, “I love you even more, Peaches.” is the reason the world turns around. 

 

**_November 9, 1:26 am_ **

I have this reoccurring dream of you, one that makes me wake up with tears in my eyes and a sob ripping through my throat. I'm locked in my bedroom, and it's so fucking dark I can barely see my hand in front of my face. I climb over the bed and I turn on the lamp, but it's dim and flickering and so I curl up against the headboard near it so that I'm not afraid. You know how much I hate the dark. 

Suddenly, there's a creak and the door opens. You slide in and shut it behind you, unrecognizable to someone that doesn't know the sound of your footsteps. When you climb to the best, you move yourself closer to me, your arms snaking around my waist and constricting me. You wrap them tighter and tighter until I can no longer breathe, and it hurts so fucking bad that my body aches from where you used to bruise me even after it’s healed. I'm gasping for air when you start to kiss me, and I'm trying to cry out no, no, no, but you can't hear a word I'm saying. You just keep going. 

I wake up panting and I have to strip of my clothes or else I feel like they're going to suffocate me, drawing the air from my lungs like you used to when you kissed me tasting of whisky and anger. 

 

**_November 10, 7:12 pm_ **

I still haven't seen Riley since Halloween, and that terrifies me. I had dinner tonight at Missy’s apartment with Julia, and when Missy pulled out old pictures of us in high school, it was amazing how inseparable we really were. When Missy and I dated, we became the holy trinity of our school. You never saw one of us without the other two, and we thought that would never end.

A few years ago, if you would've told me that I would willingly go eleven days without seeing Riley while in walking distance of her, I would've found it hilarious. It would've been a joke to me. 

I haven't called her in three days. I've facetimed Missy every day since we've started talking again. If I'm not on the phone with Julia, we’re constantly texting. 

Don't even get me started on Ranger Rick. 

 

**_November 11, 4:06 am_ **

Did you know that my grandfather was a war veteran? I doubt it because you never really listened when I talked about or participated in my family's Veterans Day traditions, but every year on this day, we go to his grave in Indiana. He's buried there because that's where he spent nearly all of his life with Gammy. They raised my mom there, growing older in a little town tinier than the population of Central Park on a slow day. You usually have seminars around this time of year, so you never really minded when I would go with them for a few days. 

My grandpa was a really good man. He died when I was about twelve in a car accident. When I would go and visit him and Gammy in Indiana during the summers, I would jump out of the car at the end of their driveway and sprint right into him so that he could spin me around. He would laugh and kiss the top of my head before shouting, “Hiya, my Maya!” and I would giggle and yell back, “Hiya, my Papa!” so that their entire street would know that I was visiting and he had the very best granddaughter in the world in his home for the week. He would even take me to work with him at the tape factory he worked at and I would leave with more sticky notes than you can even dream of. I still find them in some of my old books and boxes sometimes. 

We decided to fly this year. It was all very spur of the moment, and we bought the tickets honestly like ten minutes ago when we need to be at the airport in half an hour, but I think it should be fun. We’ll be back tomorrow, and Riley says that it's a waste of a trip to only go for one day, and she doesn't understand why we’re doing it so that's not going to stop me. It's always going to be worth it. 

 

**_November 12, 3:00 pm_ **

Lucas picked us up from the airport, and when I saw him holding out bags already, I ran right up and hugged him tight because I missed him so much. He squeezed my waist and kissed my cheek, and there was this odd sensation of being home that I had to ignore when my mom and Gammy caught up to us. 

I think that I love him. I can't tell him yet because I won't do that to him, I won't put him in that place when I still think about you so much, but I think that I love him so much that it almost makes me forget how much I love you. (Almost being the key word.)

 

**_November 13, 7:46 pm_ **

Caleb looks just like Missy. He has her little nose and her smile that lights up the world and, fucking hell, even if Missy and I were never in love, I fell in love with that little boy the second that I saw him. 

I'm going to babysit for her while her and her mother go to family therapy next weekend. I don't even think words could describe the smile on my face when Missy introduced me as Auntie Maya and Caleb ran right up to me so I could scoop him up. Her mom says that I must have a magic touch because he doesn't warm up that quickly to just anyone, but Missy insists it's because he's a great judge of character. 

He didn't like his father much at all. 

 

**_November 14, 3:35 am_ **

They prescribed me some medication to help me sleep. I hadn't even realized it, but somehow I've been managing my life on an average of two hours of sleep a night. I thought it had gotten better, but it turns out, I'm just dreaming of you less. 

 

**_November 15, 9:41 am_ **

Thanksgiving is coming up soon. Lucas invited me, my mom, and Gammy to his house with his parents and grandparents. They're coming up here all the way from Texas on the 20th, and I'm going out with them for dinner then, too. 

I know that I'm not his girlfriend, but it sort of feels like I am and I don't hate it. 

 

**_November 16, 8:56 pm_ **

I told Julia about the Lucas situation, and she wants nothing more than me to date him. In fact, to recreate the double date aura we possessed last month, Zac, Lucas, Julia, and I are all going back to the zoo. Soon. So that she can see these supposed feelings in person. 

Best friends are exhausting. 

 

**_November 17, 12:01 am_ **

I realized that I called Julia my best friend in that last entry, and I kept myself awake so that I can write to you immediately that I've never called anyone beside Riley my best friend. I've never even thought it, but it just sort of slipped out and I didn't realize until almost eleven thirty that I acknowledged her as that and I'm sort of freaking out now. 

I called Lucas and he's coming over because I couldn't even breathe and so I don't know what's going to happen and I don't know if I'll be okay. I don't know if this will be okay, if Riley and I will be okay. I don't know anything anymore. 

 

**_November 18, 3:13 pm_ **

Riley and I are growing apart. We have been for a while, and it's finally caught up to us. I want to blame you because it should be your fault, but it's not. It's no one’s fault. 

I used to think that the secret of life is that people change people. The thing is that it isn't. The secret of life is just that people change, whether we want to or not. 

 

**_November 19, 5:27 am_ **

When Missy and I are together, we sometimes get caught up in the nostalgia of when we were kings and the world was bright. We’ll start dancing in my living room, and she'll call me beautiful while she twirls me, and I'll call her stunning when she grins and tumbles over some pillows that we knocked off the couch. She yanks me down with her and suddenly we’re both on the ground, nose to nose as giggling, panting messes.

Within seconds, I'm kissing her forehead and she's wrapping her arms around my waist and everything else melts away. In that time, even if it's only in my apartment, we’re kings and no one can touch us- especially men like you. 

 

**_November 20, 5:49 pm_ **

Lucas bought me quite possibly the tackiest bracelet I have ever seen in my entire life to surprise me before dinner with his family tonight. It was silver and had charms on it, little ones of paint palettes and microphones and a single rose and all these things that he says reminds him of me. I wanted to make fun of him for being such a sap, but as soon as I landed on the little horse charm way at the end accompanied with a metallic cowboy hat to its left, I smiled as wide as I could because it's not just me on this bracelet, it's us. 

And I'm never taking it off. 

 

**_November 21, 8:29 pm_ **

Often when I sketch, I do it absentmindedly. I pull out the set of colored pencils that Riley got me, the one with every color imaginable, and I just start going, not realizing what I'm making until I'm done. 

When I was younger, it was the city. I never wanted to leave home. I never wanted anything to change. I'd sketch the night sky with pencils the size of my thumb that I found in the hallways in school. 

In high school, it was Riley. Riley smiling, Riley laughing, Riley being protected from all the horrors that crept with the older crowd. There were drugs and smokers and sex and everything that Rileytown was oblivious to, and so I drew her safe in her castle, untouched and beautiful. Exactly as I saw her. 

During college, you consumed me. I drew nothing but you. Every feature of your face had to have been in at least every other margin in my notebook. Fuck, you were on the napkins that I doodled on last month while filling out some forms for work at our bakery. 

I never thought I'd stop sketching you, but, today, when I glanced down at my open pad of paper, my heart skipped a beat. It was a face, one of a boy. But his lips were thinner and his nose was rounder and his jawline was much more broader than yours. When I grabbed the green for his eyes, I didn't even notice snatching a shade three times lighter than your own, and I know I'm in love. 

 

**_November 22, 11:17 am_ **

We're throwing a Friendsgiving tomorrow. It's like Thanksgiving, but it's going to be me, Riley, Lucas, Julia, Zac (who she's been getting awfully cozy with), Zay, Farkle, Riley's new boyfriend, Missy, and even Caleb. 

Riley, Missy, and I are all organizing it, and when we laugh so hard that tears are in our eyes it's like we're back to when things were simpler. When we were more innocent. 

 

**_November 23, 10:59 pm_ **

I'm glad you weren't here tonight. I enjoyed myself, laughing so loud that my throat ached, and I haven't done that in a while. I wore a short dress that made me feel cute, and I curled my hair in the way you didn't like because I like it this way, and my opinion is the one that matters. 

There's a part in me deep, deep down inside that hopes you had the shittiest night of your life for how you treated me, and I don't think I want to fight it anymore. 

 

**_November 24, 5:02 am_ **

Happy Thanksgiving. 

I'm leaving for Lucas’s in like twenty minutes to help his mom, but I just wanted to tell you that before I go. 

 

**_November 25, 9:40 am_ **

Missy and I are skipping group therapy today. She has court for her divorce, and so I'm watching Caleb while her mom takes her into the city for it. We're going to a pumpkin patch, and we’ll get some of the surplus gourds they have tucked in the 30¢ bins from Thanksgiving to decorate their dinner table with for no reason. Missy used to love them, so I know that she'll appreciate it. 

He calls me Aunnie Yaya, which is pretty great for a two year old if you ask me. It sounds better than anything you called me.

 

**_November 26, 4:38 pm_ **

We (Julia, Zac, Lucas, and me) are going back to the zoo tomorrow. I won't be writing to you because I'm spending tonight with Lucas and tomorrow night with Julia, and I just thought you should know. 

 

**_November 28, 11:46 pm_ **

Are you doing okay? I don't really ask about you anymore. I don't mean to seem so self centered. 

It's hard trying to learn to be selfish sometimes- because that's okay. I can be selfish, just like you were. It won't make me any less of a good person.

(It doesn't make you any less of one, either.)

 

**_November 29, 6:17 am_ **

I don't need to take my pills for sleeping when Lucas stays over. We noticed it last night, and so he's going to start sleeping here even more. I don't know what that will mean for this diary, but I'm still going to try for you. 

 

**_November 30, 7:02 pm_ **

I went on a picnic today. 

It was sunny and beautiful and a bird shit on Lucas’s head before Riley stumbled into a fountain. It was sunny and beautiful and perfect and I love them. I really do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psa updates are moving from every week to every other monday but i am gonna try to post one shots in between so yeah also comment nd review and all that shit


	6. December

**** **_December 1, 7:26 pm_ **

There's a museum worker that came to the hospital today. She brought ancient artwork from millions of years ago, and there was a rotting in my gut with the realization that I will never create anything that would even compare to that. 

It was tragic, and I hate how often I have to use that word to describe my life. 

 

**_December 2, 11:38 pm_ **

I had group today, meaning I didn't work and I spent the entire afternoon on Missy’s couch, crying over dumb romantic comedies before Julia told us the dirty details of her night with Zac. He came over yesterday, and they had a sleepover- lacking any sleep- which was enough of a scandal for us to giggle about it like high schoolers that just got felt up for the first time behind the bleachers. 

She's finally moving on, though, and I wonder if that's a sign that I’m ready, too. 

 

**_December 3, 6:34 pm _ **

When Lucas sleeps over, I sometimes think that he's you- wrapped around me in bed and pulling my body to your chest. There's a moment where panic completely overwhelms me and he wakes up because I'm shaking so badly. 

Except instead of getting irritated like I think he will, he just holds me closer. He whispers into my ear that I'm alright, and he presses his lips to the side of my neck and a breath I didn't even realize I was holding escapes me. 

 

**_December 4, 3:19 am_ **

I wish I had never met you. 

I wish your smile didn't make me melt.

I wish I didn't smell your cologne when I lay in bed at night- despite how hard I scrubbed, despite how much bleach I used against the stain of it on the drywall. 

I wish that I could open doors without flinching because you used to hate when I would do it for myself. You'd insist that you're my boyfriend, you take care of me, you open my doors. You’d tug me sharply back by the hair on my head and mutter words about chivalry before I stumbled through the newly available entry like that was okay. 

I wish that I could sleep without thinking of you. 

I wish that I didn't still find your things tucked into the corners of my home, of my mind. 

I wish that I could give the boy that treats me properly my entire heart, offering it with my soul and anything else he desires, but I can't do that because it's still yours in some way.

I wish that I could stop seeing myself as yours. 

 

**_December 5, 12:51 pm _ **

I'm on my lunch break at work, and Missy came to visit me today. With the holidays approaching and the lack of volunteers, she was welcomed by everyone with open arms before she passed out candy canes from the nurses and introduced herself. 

All of the kids are trying to get home for Christmas, but I know the truth and I know where they will be in twenty days. They'll be here, trapped behind secure doors as most of their parents rattle off stories of a wild winter training camp they're in for whatever sport they’ve shown the slightest ounce of interest towards or the mysterious friend that whisked them away to some retreat with their family this year. Their relatives will think that they're off having grand adventures instead of staring out their windows, crying over the dinner they won't share with the ones they love.

When my mom was in rehab, we said she was in Florida. I spent the holidays with Lucas down in Texas because I couldn't face the Matthews and their perfect portrait of a home while mine slipped through my fingertips, and we told his distant cousins that my mom was tucked away in Florida for some audition her manager sent her to, one he was sure she would get so she would have to take the risk- but his parents knew the truth. His grandparents, too. 

And they pretended that they couldn't hear when I cried late at night and Lucas held me until I slept because my mother almost drank herself to death the week before Christmas Eve and would be in a rehab facility far away from me well past Christmas and New Years and my birthday and everything that I only had her to share with after Gammy’s death. 

We’re gonna try to make Christmas good for them this year, we really are. We’re going to try to remind these kids that they may not be at a camp or a resort or in some state hours away, but they are in a place where they are safe and they are loved and they are nothing to be ashamed of. 

 

**_December 6, 9:52 pm _ **

I love Lucas, I really do. I love his eyes and his smile and his hair and his touch and his laugh and the way he twirls me in the air when he's excited. 

I love him so fucking much that I can't breathe when I'm around him. I just hold the air in my lungs like the world is going to implode if I don't, and he smiles lopsidedly when I start to pant from the action. 

I'm waiting for it to end, for him to leave, but he doesn't. 

 

**_December 8, 1:47 pm_ **

Do you think that astronauts realize how lucky they are? They could be floating in space and with a click of their helmets no longer exist, and it would be written off as a malfunction in their suit. 

If I tried to no longer exist with a click to my skull, that's suicide, and that would shatter everyone around me because I should be happier, I should be getting better, I should finally be okay.  

I should've studied for NASA. 

 

**_December 9, 6:41 am_ **

I dreamt about Lucas last night and I'm going to talk about him instead of how much I ponder on death during group therapy today because I'm happier and I'm better and I don't need to be in space when the boy who loves me walks the earth. 

That boy is slowly fading from you to him, and I'm gonna be okay, I think.

I’ll have to stop holding my breath one day. 

 

**_December 10, 8:18 pm _ **

We made paper snowflakes at work today and hung them all around the dull corridors of the hospital, laughing with tape stuck to our clothes and hair and everywhere it shouldn't be after I had to sneak it in. 

(It's a hazard, they warned me.) 

The twins chose different colors to paint them and Ben made one as large as his head and Nicky laughed so hard that the milk from his snack came out of his nose and, fuck, I love these kids. 

 

**_December 11, 11:16 pm_ **

I used to despise skating at Rockefeller when I was younger. A crowded tourist trap that made me want to lay on the ice so they could slice me up with their ridiculous strides. 

Sundance took me today, though, as a surprise with Julia and Zac and he held my waist the entire time I skidded and slipped around the arena. 

Maybe I hated it because it was a cliché or maybe I hated it because no one had ever taught me to skate- the world may just never know. 

 

**_December 13, 2:49 am _ **

Do you remember when you were little and would hold your breath when passing cemeteries? The dumb superstition or whatever about respecting the dead? Well, Riley still does that. It doesn't matter where we are or who is with us, she puffs her cheeks really big and she freezes her lungs for as long as the headstones go. 

I've been thinking about death a lot lately. I sometimes wish that I was, y’know. I wonder if that would make everything easier. I would forget you, forget my pain, forget any sorrows. I would go numb, and it'd all just end. 

I know I'm not supposed to think this way, but it creeps its way into my system until I feel like I've gone crazy, like I belong in a hospital where they'll monitor my every move. 

 

**_December 14, 11:21 pm_ **

Lucas likes honey on his toast. 

He burns marshmallows when he roasts them because he's weird and his room always smells like baby shampoo for some reason and his first horse was named Jet because he thought it would magically make him able to fly. He doesn't like strawberry milk because looking at it reminds him of Pepto Bismol so he gets nauseous and there was a period when he was eight where he would only use Dora the Explorer band aids because he wanted to learn Spanish. 

His favorite color is blue, the blue of the sky and my eyes and the color of our tongues when we go to the gas station at four in the morning to get icees. He doesn't like raw tomatoes, but he eats them cooked, and, according to him, his mama makes the best peach cobbler on this side of the universe.

His blankets are always warm, but his sheets are always cold, and he's always the perfect mixture of both when I curl into him at night. 

I've started staying with him regularly. I'm in his bed without even trying, and he holds me while I crumble into tiny fractions of a girl all across his mattress because I want to be happy and I want to forget you and I want to be dead and none of this is good- why can't it just be good for once? 

He says that if I were to die, his world would go dark. I asked him why that would happen and he swipes at the tears slipping down my cheeks when he replies that it's because it would be buried six feet under in a wooden box, because I am his world and if I were to go, the sun would go, too, because he sees it in my smile and he feels it in my skin and he can hear it sizzling and crackling in my soft snoring when I sleep. 

I try to tell him that I'm terrified of burning him,  but we both know it's too late. 

 

**_December 15, 8:57 pm_ **

Sometimes I wonder if there's enough love left in my heart for the rest of the world. It's hard to tell because I look around sometimes, taking everything that the sun settles on in and I wish I could share it with you. 

I know that you hurt me, and I know that you've done horrible things, but I love you. I've loved you since I was nineteen, and I'll probably love you until I'm ninety- and that's okay, John. It's alright that I'm going to love you forever, I just want to be able to love someone else, someone who deserves it, too.

 

**_December 16, 4:53 pm_ **

During group, we planned a Christmas party for next week. There will be lights and music and Missy is going to bring Caleb because everyone seems to be doing okay, and that's surely fucking worth celebrating. 

 

**_December 17, 3:39 am_ **

I kissed Lucas under mistletoe yesterday, and I'm still awake thinking of it because I want to do it again. We were decorating the halls in the hospital while the kids were all at lunch and he taped it up right on his forehead before he pulled me close. 

Georgia, my favorite nurse, took a picture of it without either of us knowing and I just turned my phone on for the first time since it died around when the kids got back and that picture was waiting for me. 

It looks like something straight out of a cheesy ABC Family original holiday musical, and so I made it my wallpaper. 

 

**_December 18, 6:47 pm_ **

I'm supposed to try to write to you for about a year. My therapist says this is a good way to safely communicate with you, and that I'm not allowed to reread any of it until that year is up. 

He thinks I need to recognize my progress once I'm at a better point in my life, once you're almost completely flushed out of my system, and at the rate I'm going, come next July I will finally say goodbye to you and this little book. I know it might jinx it or whatever, but I really think I might be ready for it by then. I'm not ready for it now, obviously not, but who knows where I'll be in seven months? 

 

**_ December 19, 10:22 pm _ **

Josh came home today for the holidays and the first person he ran to when Riley and I went to pick him up (he made us promise we would) was me and he spun me around in a hug as soon as he could sprint towards us. 

It felt like warmth and love and safety; it felt like a Matthews, which explains why I hugged him right back. 

Why we kissed each other? 

That's the question on everyone’s mind. 

 

**_December 21, 5:56 am_ **

We decided that it was an impulse thing, and so that's why we did it. I talked to Lucas and he called Rose and- though it's a bizarre situation- we all agreed that it was an impulse thing and we could forget it ever happened. 

Lucas kissed me over and over last night for good measure once we were all alone in his apartment, and when I asked him why, he mumbled some bullshit excuse against my pulse and I couldn't find it in me to mind it one bit.

 

**_December 22, 8:40 pm_ **

Our therapy group Christmas party was today, meaning Lucas and I spent two hours playing with Caleb while Missy and Julia got sick off of the sweets they wouldn't stop eating. We mainly showed him around the decorated halls, Lucas lifting him onto his shoulders while I pointed out crafted snowflakes and shimmering lights before we raced down the empty halls, and it was a lot of fun. 

He told me that he thinks I would make a good mother and I told him that I think he would make a good father, and then he got this smug little smirk when we both looked at the baby giggling between us and he wrapped his arm around my waist before whispering, “What a coincidence that happens to be, Ms. Hart.”

 

**_December 23, 2:11 am_ **

Lucas stole mistletoe from the party yesterday. He then insisted we have a movie night, and I didn't think much of it because we have movie nights a lot, but as soon as I went to order Chinese for dinner, he whipped it out and pinned me against my counter. 

It started off with small pecks and then it progressed to him lifting me on to the counter and I felt like a fucking highschooler again; making out with a boy in my kitchen, tossing my phone aside so my hands can roam him instead. 

The only difference between then and now is that now I'm making out with the boy that I love, and, god fucking damn it, he loves me, too. 

 

**_December 25, 11:55 pm_ **

Lucas clasped a chain around my neck with a ring hanging from it tonight. It’s simple and golden with a tiny heart engraved on the inside that makes me smile. It's a promise ring and it's for when I'm ready, he explained. It's on the chain so that I have it near and I know he's there, on my side to support me through whatever I need to do, and he hopes that one day he'll be lucky enough to see it on my hand because then I'll be his and he'll be mine and everything will be okay. 

When we got back to my apartment, laid in my bed over the covers, facing each other silently, my fingertips brushing along the structure of his cheeks and nose and lips until he fell asleep, and now, here I am, writing to you to let you know that the boy I love gave me a ring tonight and I'm going to wear it. 

Not tonight, not tomorrow, but one day soon I'm going to be ready to wear it and that’s more than I ever dreamed of being ready to do after leaving you. 

 

**_December 26, 4:37 am _ **

Yesterday, Lucas and I spent the entire day at the hospital. I've never seen those kids so happy. 

They got presents, little things for inside their rooms or toys they could play with that the nurses cleared, and they ate treats that Missy and I baked on Christmas Eve, and they laughed and sang and they were happy. Cooped up into a small wing of a hospital, shut off from their families, they spent the day smiling and laughing and playing with gifts and they were so fucking happy. 

 

**_December 27, 9:56 pm_ **

I can still remember nights where I'd stay up with you because you couldn't sleep. We’d both be dead tired because you were exhausted and I was staying awake to make sure you eventually slept and we just wanted to be close, so we’d sit in silence. 

I remember just laying there, and I'd whisper your name really softly, just in case you were asleep, even though you never were because you hadn't told me goodnight yet, and I'd tell you that I love you because, fuck, I did so fucking much. 

You would get that tone where you know that you're smiling- even though my eyes were struggling to stay open- and you’d say it back between the sound of your breathing getting deeper before it'd go back to being quiet. 

I would just sit there and think about how lucky I was in that silence. I was in love with you and you were love with me and it amazed me constantly; how much I loved you, how happy you made me, how- even though I knew there was such a chance it wouldn't happen- I wanted nothing more than a future with you. 

I wanted to tell you that I loved you in the middle of the night between whispers and soft touches for the rest of my life, and it's taken me a while to let it settle that you are not what I want anymore. 

 

**_December 28, 12:36 pm_ **

Caleb’s been working on his m’s and so today he called me Auntie Maya (not Yaya) for the first time and I started to cry. 

Missy was recording it because two fucking days ago, he was still saying Yaya and I convinced him to call Huckleberry Puke-as, but in the span of those forty eight hours, Missy got him to master my name and she ambushed me with it in a public setting so that she could have a video of me crying in Central Park to hold over my head for as long as we live. 

Lucas thinks it's cute and I told him that if he doesn't delete it from his phone (because Missy  had to send it to everyone we know) that I would kick his ass. He thinks I didn't see him emailing to himself, and so he had this smug little smirk, too, and I still can't believe I started sobbing in the middle of Central Park and Missy got it on tape.  

She says it's only going to be worse when I have kids.

 

**_December 29, 4:25 pm_ **

Today is our last group therapy session until the new year, and so we listed off our goals and resolutions. 

Missy says she wants to regain full custody of Caleb within the next year. She's talked to her lawyers, and because she has her own apartment and is going to be making a decent salary once she goes back to the law firm she works at, it should all be very possible within the next six months. Her mom is more than ready to sign him over, all they need is the green light from a judge telling her that she's deemed fit to have him. 

Julia says she wants to be able to progress in her relationship with Zac at a normal rate, not holding them back because of what has happened to her. She really likes him, and I know that he loves her from the way that he looks at her, so I really want her to make it through this, too. She deserves a happy ending. 

I told them that I want to work on coping with the guilt I have from breaking the routine you had me trapped in, and that I want to be able to wear Lucas’s ring. I want to be able to slide it onto my finger without feeling like you're going to take it away from me somehow because I still belong to you. I hope that soon I'll be able to function in daily life normally, without half of my friends treating me like I'm some wounded animal, and that I will let myself be happy this year. 

I didn't tell them that I want to think about dying a little less, but I told myself and I'm telling you, so I think it still counts. 

 

**_December 30, 7:20 pm_ **

I won't be around tomorrow because for the first time in three years, I won't be missing the Matthews’ New Year’s Extravaganza (Riley picks the name). I hope you have a nice night planned, and I hope you're sober enough that whoever you're with doesn't have to tuck you into bed like I had to. 

 

**_December 31, 2:19 am _ **

I'm wearing his ring tonight. I'm wearing his ring, and I'm kissing him when it’s midnight, and I'm starting this year with Lucas because I can and I want to and it's going to make me happy. 

I'm finally going to be happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me forever to update and itll probably take forever again considering i am having surgery tomorrow anyways hope you like it hmu on tumblr(missysbradford) comment and kudos and reviews and everything else pls  
> also if u have the url missybradford on tumblr, pls give it to me thanks

**Author's Note:**

> this is going to be updated with a new month of entries every monday because I actually have a lot of this written out already so lookout  
> comment rate subscribe follow all that cool stuff and hmu on tumblr (amirmitchell) ty also rec it to people because this is my fave thing I've ever written


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